


Tooth Fairy

by CloakedSparrow



Series: Collected Bat-Family Stories [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Detective Comics (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Children, Bat Family, Batdad, Childhood, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Gen, Tooth Fairies, daddy!Bats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 02:36:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17235752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloakedSparrow/pseuds/CloakedSparrow
Summary: The average child stops believing in mythical figures such as the tooth fairy around the age of eight.Bruce Wayne didn’t know this when he adopted eight-year-old Dick Grayson.





	Tooth Fairy

The average child stops believing in mythical figures such as the tooth fairy around the age of eight. 

Bruce Wayne didn’t know this when he adopted eight-year-old Dick Grayson.

Then, a few weeks after Dick had come to live with him, the boy lost a tooth in the gym Bruce had built for the former circus performer (it was either build that or live in perpetual fear of the child falling from barristers and chandeliers; Bruce never regretted his choice). He’d fallen while practicing a very difficult flip on the high beam. 

Bruce’s initial concern had been whether Dick was injured or not. Once he’d seen that the boy was more or less fine, he’d been too relieved to think on why the boy might be gathering his tooth. Considering that the child was still unaccustomed to having a butler, seeing him clean up after himself more thoroughly than was necessary wasn’t uncommon. But then, Bruce noticed Dick -tooth still clutched in his little hand- looking around as though unsure what to do with it. 

Again, Bruce was concerned that his newly adopted child might be injured. After all, the boy knew where the trash can was located. 

“Dick, is something wrong?” Bruce was already debating whether he should take the boy to Dr Thompkins to check for an injury or just bring him to the Cave and take care of it himself. The child was going to figure out he was Batman soon enough anyway. 

“No. I’m just looking for some place to keep my tooth until I’m done.” As he finished this explanation, Dick perked up upon noticing his shoes, discarded in the corner of the room. He walked over and began folding a sock around his tooth as Bruce watched in perplexity. 

Bruce wasn’t sure what part of that he should question first. The part where the boy apparently thought he was going to get right back to practice despite his earlier fall and apparent head trauma or the part where the child felt it was necessary to protect his lost tooth for some reason. 

“Dick, I think its time to call it a day. You just took a pretty serious fall. And here, just give me the tooth. I’ll throw it out later. I think we should-” Bruce stopped when he noticed his new ward watching him with a mix of great disappointment and mild horror. “What’s wrong now?”

“You can’t throw it out!” Dick looked and sounded truly terrified of the thought. “I have to leave it for the tooth fairy!”

“For the…” Bruce blinked. He was rarely rendered so confused or surprised that he was speechless, but young Dick seemed to have a knack for doing just that. 

It hadn’t even occurred to him that the boy might still believe in the tooth fairy. He vaguely wondered if that was normal, but such thoughts were quickly pushed aside to focus on the child who was quickly becoming distraught. 

Dick was now clutching the tiny tooth in both hands, as though afraid it was going to be taken away. “My mom said…” His little voice caught, but he soldiered on, looking down at his hands that were securely protecting the tooth. “Mom said the tooth fairy collects the teeth to keep watch over our most important childhood memories. If I don’t leave it for her…I might… I might…”

Dick started crying. “What if I forget about her!? Or Dad!? Or Zitka!? Or Mr Haley!? Or…or…”

By then, Dick was too upset to speak. His words died off in a series of small, sad gasps. 

The sight of the boy he was quickly growing to think of as his son (even if he fully intended to keep his promise to never try to replace the child’s true father) spurred Bruce to move in a way few things did. He had Dick in his arms in a heartbeat. At first he just stroked the boy’s back and made some soothing sounds he hadn’t even been aware he could make until he’d brought the grieving child into his home. 

After a long moment, Bruce somehow knew the boy was calm enough to speak to. He couldn’t say how he knew this, but he talked to the child anyway. “Its okay, Dick. You aren’t going to forget your family. Ever.

“I know what a painful thought that is. I used to worry about it too. But I’ve never forgotten my parents and you won’t either. I promise.” Bruce leaned back enough to look at the boy, but he refused to release him and continued to rub his upper arms.

Large, incredibly blue eyes stared at him as the boy clearly listened to his every word. Tears still glistened in them, but there was also hope. And a growing sense of trust. Bruce’s promise was already starting to mean something to Dick. That knowledge made Bruce feel more important, more needed, than even Batman did. It also filled him with more emotions than he’d known he could feel at once. 

“I don’t…” Dick sniffed, but continued, watching Bruce all the while. “I just don’t want to lose them. Not any more than I have already. I don’t want to be alone.”

Bruce was pretty sure his heart broke on the spot. He’d thought he’d suffered the most pain he ever would already, but watching Dick hurt pained him in a way nothing else ever had or likely could. 

He removed one hand from the boy’s arm in order to wipe the lingering tears from his face. He stroked his head afterwards. “You won’t. We can still leave the tooth, if you want. But no matter what happens, your parents will always be with you, Dick. Every time you fall, every time you rise; they’ll be there.”

His large hand cupped the boy’s small face. “And so will I. So will Alfred. You will _never_ be alone, Dick. I promise you that.”

Dick stared at him as though peering into his soul for a long moment. Then the child launched himself against him. Bruce’s arms encircled the boy again immediately. He felt Dick’s arms wrap around him as far as they could. One small hand fisted his shirt, the other was still tightly clutched around his tooth. 

They remained like that for a long time. Until Bruce realized that Dick was falling asleep. He scooped the boy up without a thought and began carrying him toward his room. He spoke softly, so as not to make the boy wake entirely. “Come on, Chum. Let’s get you ready for bed.”

The boy eventually roused enough to tuck his tooth under his pillow, get changed into his pajamas, and brush his teeth. He was clearly worn out from the day’s exercise and his emotional incident. Bruce had to steer him into bed once he was done, for fear the tired child would stumble or fall asleep somewhere between the bathroom and his bed. 

Dick was asleep practically the second his head hit his pillow. Bruce stroked his hair with one hand and deftly swapped the tiny tooth for a coin from his pocket with the other. “Goodnight, Dick.” He spoke very softly and moved to leave after one final stroke of the child’s raven hair. 

A small hand sleepily grasped at his as he pulled it away. A half-asleep voice murmured out. “Ngh…Daddy…”

Bruce wasn’t sure if the first word was meant to be _’night_ or _no_. The second word rooted him to the spot either way. He gently held onto the hand that had managed to grasp onto his, even if the boy’s grip was loose in sleep. 

There was no way he was going to be able to leave, so Bruce maneuvered himself onto Dick’s bed without disturbing the child or releasing his hand. It was early. He could sit with the boy for a while. As soon as he was settled, Dick’s hand slipped out of his as the child snuggled against him as if he were a large teddy bear. 

Bruce wrapped one arm securely around Dick. He resumed stroking his hair with the other. His thoughts were on nothing but the boy he already loved. 

Batman didn’t go out that night. 

Bruce awoke the next morning with Dick sound asleep on his chest and a tiny tooth still tucked into his pocket. 

He inspected the small lateral incisor after he’d slipped into his own room to shower and change. 

Alfred appeared, as always, with his tea and the morning paper. He glanced at the tooth that was still held between Bruce’s thumb and forefinger. “You know, Master Bruce, you could have simply told him the truth. After all, in the grand scheme of things, I don’t think learning there isn’t a tooth fairy will be much of a trauma for the boy.”

Bruce knew, considering the life he lived and had no doubt Dick would somehow become a part of in due time, that it was a little ridiculous to encourage such fantasies. The memory of the child’s face when he was explaining why the tooth was so important drowned out any logic that his mind might offer. “He’s lost enough already. He can have the tooth fairy for a while longer.” 

He could swear Alfred was hiding a smile. “Very well, Master Bruce. I assure you, Master Dick won’t hear anything from me. Do be sure to find out whether or not he still believes in Santa Claus before December. We’ll need time if we’re meant to send a letter to the North Pole.” 

Bruce immediately frowned. He hadn’t thought of that. He quickly pushed the concern aside. He could bring up letters to Santa around Thanksgiving and see how Dick responded. Assuming the child didn’t bring the subject up before then. 

In the meantime, Bruce removed one of his expensive watches from its nice case and replaced it with the tooth. 

More tiny teeth joined it over the next few years. Even when Bruce was pretty sure Dick no longer believed in the tooth fairy, the boy would let him know every time he lost a tooth and then proceed to place it under his pillow that night. And every time, Bruce would slip into his son’s room, stroke his sleeping head, and swap out the tooth for a quarter. 

Bruce thought that Mary Grayson had been right, in a way. Because every time he looked at the little teeth, he was filled with memories of his eldest son’s childhood. He remembered putting his duty as a father before his duty as Batman without even thinking about it. He remembered what was important. He remembered a promise he’d made; one he intended to never break.

A very small jar rested in the drawer beside the watch case full of tiny teeth. In it were the wisdom teeth that had needed to be removed shortly after Jason came to live with Bruce. He never told the boy he’d kept the teeth. 

Whenever he saw them, he remembered how his second eldest -still very unsure of trusting his new family- had asked him to stay when the dentist’s assistant offered to show Bruce to the waiting room. He remembered learning that Jason had never been to a dentist before and feeling protective and touched when he realized the boy was nervous and that his presence was comforting the teenager. He remembered holding his new son’s hand and explaining to him that everything was going to be fine, that the medication they’d be giving him during the procedure wasn’t addictive. He remembered taking care of the groggy teenager afterwards. He remembered eating ice cream and watching television with his child until Jason fell asleep against his side. He remembered carrying the boy to bed, gently kissing his head, and whispering “Goodnight, son.”

Along with the case and jar was another small box containing the baby teeth that Tim had lost after he came to save Bruce from himself. Unlike Jason, Tim was aware that Bruce had the teeth. Unlike Dick, there hadn’t been any need to slip into his third child’s room to swap the teeth out for quarters. 

Bruce remembered the first time Tim had held up a hand to pause their sparring as he silently spit a tooth into his other hand. At first, Bruce had been frightened that he’d accidentally hurt the boy, but Tim had apologized and embarrassingly admitted that he was still losing his baby teeth as soon as he’d gotten the tooth out. The child had looked puzzled when Bruce held out a hand and said “Here”, unable to explain why it was important that he take the baby tooth. The boy had still looked confused, even as he handed it over, so Bruce simply said “For the tooth fairy” and tucked the tooth away. The next time Tim lost a tooth (this time while they were at the Bat-Computer) he’d looked uncertain and slightly embarrassed as he offered it, asking if Bruce wanted that one too. Bruce had, and he noticed that the child had a slight fever when he’d taken it. 

Tim clearly hadn’t thought it warranted any attention, but Bruce had insisted the boy take some medicine and go to bed. He’d checked the child’s room as soon as he returned from patrol later that evening. He’d been relieved upon touching the boy’s head and finding that his fever was receding. Tim started to stir at the touch, so he’d stroked the still-slightly-too-warm head and spoke gently. “Everything’s okay, son.” He’d slipped out of the room shortly after Tim went back to sleep.

The boy continued to hand over his baby teeth without question or comment afterwards. 

Bruce might not have made the same verbal promise to his second and third sons as he had his first, but it was still there. It was there the moment they’d silently expressed that same trust in him. The moment they’d showed him that his word was all they needed. The moment they’d been comforted by his mere presence. 

The moment he realized he was their father.


End file.
